Pants. Essential Indulgences.

Time for a quick inventory. Mass manufactured things to wear bought in 2009 so far: one three-pack of pants. Not bad, eh? (But I can't promise hand-on-heart that I won't own some more shoes before the year is out.) And I wouldn't have bought those if my fashion-papping work hadn't of taken me into the underwear shop Oysho, leading to my exposure to their irresistably cute pants selection.

I have been attempting to avoid mass-manufactured clothing, and doing pretty well at it, for almost two and a half years now. Throughout this period, my motivations for doing so have multiplied, developed and evolved. No, I don't think what I am doing is going to make any direct impact on mass-manufacturings' socially and environmentally unsound practises, I'm not a dumb-ass! I doubt Primark, Topshop, Bershka and the rest, or more specifically the huge conglomerates which own them, are quaking in fear as the news of my (in)actions reaches them (which it inevitably will!).

But I do believe that an effect has been, and will continue to be, created by what I'm (not) doing. Talking and writing about my choices and role in this live experiment is hopefully, in some immeasurable way, pushing towards change. I try to back up this debate by on-and-off producing handmade alternatives to mass-manufactured garments and accessories and, ultimately, living in a way that I can justify to myself. But let me clarify, the changes I feel are required must occur both in mass-manufacturings' methods and impact, as well as society's relationships towards consumption, ownership and waste. Which is a circuitous route to get back to talking about pants.

I must confess that I bought those pants not because I needed some new pants, but because they were pretty (little hearts, clubs, diamonds and spades on them, my inner 'casino imagery' junkie was aroused). I feel guilty enough to not let that happen again for some time, but it is unlikely that I won't NEED new pants at some point in the future. What to do? Etsy had an awswer:

Handmade pants! The beauties above (by seller 'Five is for Riches') are so up my street, the postman keeps accidentally delivering me their post.

Or what about something a little more burlesque?!:However, we all know that give a man a fish and he'll eat for a day, teach him how to fish and he'll eat forever. So in addition to the Swallow pants, another etsy purchase I'm seriously considering is this:


A knicker making kit/pattern, which was used to create the brown pants from a recycled T-shirt. I'm definately drawn to this whole scenerio, not least because the kits contains these:

Alternatively, one could download the Cheeky Panties pattern from Burdastyle, as created and uploaded by EmilyKate, to create winners like these: Now my homegirls Hazza and Michelle have been on the homemade pant-making tip for some time. Maybe it's time to put my money where my, um, mouth is (!).

From Triumphs to Children's Scissors

Hang on! Before you get all 'I thought from now on we were going to see all new creations in action?!' and go and check out someone elses blog, give me the chance to explain. I'll admit, it looks hot on the mannequin, but despite appearences, this recent bane of my sewing life is unwearble, at least at the moment.

It began life as a fortuitous find. On the way to (evil) Ikea, we perchanced upon one of the rare-as-a-unicorn charity shops here in bcn, and what-do-you-know? They were having a sale: everything one euro! (I apologise if you are able to read Catalan and you feel I've just insulted your linguistic skils). The shop must have scooped up some surplus stock from somewhere, resulting in an abundance of totally unused 1970's mens clothing. Now this got my heart racing as, although most was of limited appeal, you NEVER see fresh vintage in charity shops in the UK these days. The shop assistants and the public are just too clued up and know they can make more cash selling it elsewhere, or too stupid and it ends up in the bin (don't even think about it, it'll give you nightmares).

So anyway, I picked up this tasty box-fresh shirt, and rocked up to Ikea (I know I know, I was only there for the herring) and found some complimentary blue cotton for €2 a metre. A plan was hatched, and the application of the Burdastyle 'Coffee Date Dress' pattern ensued.

Agh!!!!!!! Now, I don't really want to speak ill of this pattern, as a very generous member of Burdastyle drafted it herself and took the time to grade it and upload for other members. As usual, my impatience prevented me from making a toile first, so when the flaws in fit began to reveal themselves like an unrolling carpet, I ended up pretty much restitching every seam at least once.

Now, it could be argued that it's my body's fault for not being the correct shape, but despite it's various flaws, my figure does have pretty standard proportions. I'll give it that. The Coffee Date Dress pattern was initially designed for petite sizes, but due to popular demand the designer graded it to 'normal' sizes. I may be alone in saying this but however I think many of the issues of proportion that such an endeavour raises were not properly addressed. All I'm sayin. For example, the bust point ended up way too high, and the waistline (which my fabric combo really emphasised) was neither waisted nor empire line, resulting in my fashioning an extra waist band, which in turn threw the garment's balance off entirely. Then I noticed the back neck gapped in a bizarre way, which I corrected with darts which then effected the facings etc, etc, etc, blah, blah...

Well, the beauty of the fabric combo forced me to persevere, until I finshed the damn thing and took it on holiday with me to Sevilla for it's debut. Well, to add insult to injury, I struggled into the (admittedly) slightly too tight dress, ready to go out to dinner (that'll help!) and asked my boyfriend to zip me in. Which is when the zip broke. And noone had any scissors so we had to go to the hotel reception and borrow, what looked to be, childrens craft scissors in order to facilitate my release!

Well, I was unable to even look at the stupid thing for over a month, but eventually purchased and fitted a new zip, making it complete again. Now however, I've decided when I put it on it looks like I've stolen a small child's party dress. Which as a concept I'm not entire against. But it ain't going to happen, at least until my (stressful and intense month of work so I can have the rest of the summer off's) belly has diminished.

There's probably some lessons to learn in amongst all this, but with only a week left of the summer school, right now learning is something I want to put towards the back of my mind for a while!

Out in the Field

Perhaps I have been too hasty. Maybe I have been approaching the reviews of my home-made garments incorrectly. Previously, not always but often, I have tended to finish the hem, pop the garm on me or the mannequin and get some paps done, followed by a (witty and informative) blog post when I get round to it a few days later.

Well, it has come to my attention that very possibly my evaluations of my creations would be much more authentic and insightful after having worn it several times whilst getting thoroughly, eye-wateringly wrecked on cocktails/cava/wine/nan-juice. Thus, I should glean a far greater empathy for the garment, and be more fully aware of it's strengths and failings as a piece from the wardrobe of a modern woman, going about her business:

For this post I can assure that the new criteria was definately met. This cheeky little top was crafted from a beautiful piece of vintage fabric I picked up for $1.99 in a thrift store in the Mission district of San Francisco a couple of years ago. It had been hanging around teasing me with it's potential until I declared 'Enough!' and fashioned a simple top based on this awesome 1968 Simplicity dress pattern I swiped off of eBay. Because of the level of beauty, and limited dimensions of the fabric, I did what I rarely do when it comes to the early stages of garment creation: I took my time and applied patience.

Using patterned fabric, I think, requires a bit of a balancing act. You want to give the print a chance to bask in it's full glory, unencumbered by an overly complex style. But on the flipside, you don't want to be a walking canvas with a dull shaped garment (with the notable exception of basic A-line skirts). I attempted to balance the tightrope by drafting a Peter Pan collar (using a tutorial somewhere to be found on Wiksten Made).

A happy coincidence, it looks rockin with the PLAIN navy skirt I made, previously featured here.

So the field test revealed that, generally it is a success. A couple of minor flaws: the zip could have been a bit longer for ease of getting it on and off, the shoulder line stops a bit short which exposes unnecessary bra-strappage, and (for reasons that are beyond me) one side of the collar likes to flap up whilst walking outside (best worn sitting down inside then).

I hope the pictorial evidence and reported experience gives a more thorough review. In future I will endeavour to continue in this vein. I have corrected my behaviour and moved away from such errors. It won't happen again. Sorry.

Alternative Markets

Here's a little article I wrote about my experince of trying to 'break' the London craft market scene. Writing it was pretty cathartic as it allowed me to review some elements of my past that I have nagging feelings could have turned out differently. Que sera....

As a young Fashion Design student, I couldn’t wait until I graduated to start creating and selling my ideas. So in the third year of my degree, I began making bags and found some stockists by tentatively approached local independent shops. My first few sales generated an excitement that, years later, still motivates me today.

After moving back near London and conducting more research, I decided that obtaining a stall at one of the increasingly popular London design markets was my way forward. From the more established Camden, Portabello and Spitalfields Markets, to the lesser known Greenwich Market, to the newer UpMarket and Backyard Market, three or four years ago these were rapidly gaining in popularity as locations to discover a wealth of talented young designers offering exciting alternatives to the increasing homogeny of high street fashion. Designer/makers display their handmade or customised wares in stalls, which often replicate the feel of mini-boutiques. The absence of high rents, business taxes and other overheads theoretically mean they can concentrate on experimentation and product development.

A buzz began to surround these markets, subsequently press attention followed. The councils and private businesses that owned these markets soon realise that, as the stall holder inquiries and waiting lists grew, a lucrative profit could be gleaned. Stall prices for the more established markets rose prohibitively for new start-ups, if you were able to acquire a much-coveted pitch in the first place. Cheaper alternatives were the new markets being created to capitalise on this trend, or accepting a pitch at an established market but on a midweek day.

Becoming part of the Designer/maker market scene has become increasingly costly, particularly when you add transportation (possibly including parking and the London congestion charge), and not least the time and money outlay needed to create a whole stall’s worth of stock in the first place. Finding small independent shops to stock your products continues to be an option for someone starting out, which eliminates some of the preventative costs of market trading. Some of those early stockists also gave me invaluable support, suggestions, encouragement and feedback. However, often the slow turnover in small shops and crippling price mark-ups can result in meagre, if any, profit for the wannabe designer.

For the last couple of years, another option for Designer/makers who wish to sell their creations is Etsy.com. Etsy, and the proliferation of similar sites, acts as an online market, in which the seller has their own ‘shop’ and pays a small fee to Etsy when a purchase has been made. Like stocking in an existing ‘real’ shop, Etsy and the likes avade many of the problems and costs of market trading, with the added bonus of avoiding high price mark-ups.

However, although Etsy and similar sites do have the benefit of making your items available world wide, there are a couple of notable downsides. The first is that Etsy, by far the best known of these sites, is saturated with creations, making hits and sales very rare (unless you are able to attract online traffic another way, perhaps through a popular blog which attracts ‘fans’). The second is one that applies to all online shopping: it is impossible to try on the garment or item before purchase. Sometimes it is necessary to see something in the flesh to fall in love with it!

Something that I am involved in, and would like to see more of in the future, is collectives of creative people setting up mini-markets/exhibitions/sales featuring their own handmade items. Potentially prohibitive because of the organisation required to make it possible, and advertising needed to make it a success, but it is an exciting option never-the-less. This allows sellers to take back control of how and what they wish to display, whilst re-establishing one of the most positive elements of markets, namely giving customers the ability to meet and interact with the Designer/maker.

Ultimately, there is no perfect solution for low-fi fashion makers wanting to sell their goods. However, by applying some of their natural-born creativity to the selling process, there will always be ever-evolving options for this vibrant niche.

Now you think about what you did

Whilst peeking through previous posts on one of my more recent blog acquaintances, Bloom's Fabric Obsession, I spotted an interesting post she based on an article in the Australian Stitches magazine. It listed the top 10 wardrobe mistakes of a sewer, Bloom’s witty and insightful comments on the article can be viewed here, however I thought I’d add my tup’ney worth:

1. Wearing the wrong colour:
I have deliberately avoided learning too much about what colours are meant to compliment mine and other peoples’ complexions. I think I would find myself analysing people and clothing even more than I already do, and that’s just not brain-space I’m prepared to relinquish. Also, if you are naturally drawn to certain colours, as we all are, aren’t those colours, as a reflection of your personality, what you should be wearing? If indeed they turn out to be different from the ones that you could get ‘prescribed’ to you by ‘experts’? See what I mean? Too much brain-space required. All I can say is that, presently I’m aiming for more red and turquoise garmentage.

2. Sewing and wearing garments that are too big:
Sooooper annoying when you make something that turns out to be too big because the pattern’s size guide was inaccurate. Unpicking is so disheartening. I am getting more disciplined at refitting a garment, but often it has to be initially left and revisited at a later date, as the pain can be too raw to tackle the unwearable garment immediately.

3. Not wearing what we sew:
Generally this only happens to me when the garment turns out too big (see above) or I can no longer get my expanded ass into something. That can be pretty heart breaking too. I’ve often considered going on a crash diet just to recapture the ability to wear one specific garment, which wouldn’t work as the rest of my wardrobe would no longer fit.

4. Not accessorising:
Guilty, for shizzle. This also includes jewellery wearing. I think I’m going to have to make some dresses and tops that have appropriate necklines SPECIFICALLY for necklace wearing ease. I’m not a born accessoriser, so maybe I have to employ this type of planning to cheat a look into appearing naturally more cohesive.

5. Putting all our money into fabric and not enough into ourselves:
What? They are the same thing aren’t they?

6. Mixing day and evening wear:
At first I wasn’t sure what was meant to be the crime here, wearing sequins in the daytime or scuzzy jeans when out on the razzle. Actually I’m still not sure. Hmm, maybe I’ve been walking around with my eyes closed but I’m not sure I’ve seen much evidence of either round my way, and if such things did occur, would it be so bad? Anyways.....

7. Spending all out time sewing and not enough grooming:
Yep, for sure, though hair and makeup looks are limited at the moment because it’s so damn hot and sticky during the day. Also throw into this category failing to see that a healthier diet and more exercise would be a far greater benefit to my overall look than my latest creation.


8. Focusing on big projects and neglecting everyday clothes:
Getting better at this (see previous ‘Lessons Learnt’ post). I don’t have the patience required to make a massive fancy dress anyhow, and you can keep tailoring. I’d much rather rustle up a quick skirt that takes maximum three prep and sewing sessions to complete.

9. Neglecting undergarments:
Unless we are talking about eveningwear, how important is this really?

10. Not investing enough time in fit:
Yes yes yes, I know, stop going on. This is linked to point no.2, wearing things that are too big. But fitting my garments isn’t so easy with my mum living in another country. I did get my boy doing some pinning the other day, so there’s potential there.

I think this articles main value is making sewers think about what they are creating and why. Seeing as I think about these type of questions excessively anyhow, it was good to have someone else’s thoughts from which to shed a new light onto such topics.

Lessons Learnt

Wandering around fabric shops or charity shops, looking for a basis of a new creations, most sewers are going to be drawn to and inspired by colour, pattern, print and the general wonderfulness of a fabric or customisable garment. The subsequent resulting items tend to be pretty attention seeking, in terms of their eventual place within an outfit. In my experience, a garment rarely gets created which forms an understated accompaniment for another item in my wardrobe. More fool me.

A prime example is the blouse featured in the last post. Although not the loudest item I am capable of creating (believe me!), I found it only actually went with one pair of plain trousers I already own. A lesson needed to be learnt in the form PLAIN garment creating! Did you hear that? PLAIN!

Subsequently, a skirt was born:

Made from a nice stretch navy sateen 'acquired' from a previous employment establishment. It's created from a Burda World of Fashion magazine (09/2007) pattern. I've been a fan of the voluminous front pleat skirt trend for a while, but really wasn't sure that volume in the front-skirt area was what my figure needed. However, I think this style is a good compromise: providing some detail interest without being too balloony. Yes, that's an adjective. It also has something of a pencil skirt shape, which is allegedly good for creating the sexy secretary/teacher look that suits hourglass shaped ladies. However, I think I fall somewhat short of that, which is probably for the best when teaching children!

Anyway, I hope you'll agree when I say that it looks pretty rockin' with the blouse. Maybe this teacher has finally learnt a lesson!

Practicing What I Preach

First up: The Goods

This is a blouse I recently made by recycling my friend Isi's old Zara shirt. I used the Liz pattern from Burdastyle, which required more fabric than I had, so I made the side panels in a contrast white fabric. This worked quite well as the white has a bit of stretch in it which makes the garment pretty comfy to wear. I was able to retain the original shirt's buttons and button holes which saved a heap of time and fannying about. I added the neck ruffle in an attempt to vaguely emulate a beautiful blouse I saw in a bcn boutique.

All in all, the blouse looks a bit more formal and fresh than my usual style, but I made this with half an eye on the summer school I'll be teaching at next month, so I'm sure this will get a fair amount of use.

Second up: The Theory

This is an article I wrote for Mixtape which should be getting published at an unspecified point in the future:

The Return of the Blouse

Looking in my dictionary under ‘blouse’, all you get is a rather uninspiring definition of ‘top worn by women’. Sadly, it’s also a word sometimes used with derision or negative ‘Mumsy’ connotations. However, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I am here to make the case that it is time women reclaimed the blouse as the thoroughly versatile and downright desirable garment that it can be.

For many years, film, the catwalk and the street have seen women’s fashion reinterpreting men’s shirts with much success. Marlene Dietrich’s suited androgyny and Stella McCartney’s oversized shirtdress with its high street interpretations are notable examples. But how successful has such androgynous dressing ever really been in real life, on non ‘stick-thin-fourteen-year-old-model’ women? You want sexy? I would argue a strong answer can be found in a blouse!

Depending on fit, fabric and detail, and teamed with a skirt, trousers or jeans, the result of a blouse can range from cute as a button, to damn hot! If you’re a vintage girl, I’m very likely already preaching to the converted. From sexy, fitted, 1950’s, Rockabilly styles to the more romantic, bell-sleeved, wide-collared, Celia Birtwell/Biba tributes, the role of the blouse is well established.

Still need more?! Well, if you’re a crafty sewing gal, a blouse makes the perfect easy-to-intermediate project. The Burdastyle website, for example, has some fantastic blouse patterns available for download, the JJ and Liz styles being just two.

Also, a prime refashioning project (as advocated by the UK Government’s ‘Make Do and Mend’ campaign during the Second World War, BTW!) is making a woman’s blouse from a ‘decommissioned’ man’s shirt. Men’s shirts are often made from such great quality fabric, that a bit of re-cutting here, a couple of tucks or darts there, and you’ve got a great new garment for yourself. And perhaps if you’re super ingenious, you can also retain the original shirt’s button stand and/or collar, thus avoiding two of the universally accepted biggest sewing based pains in the arse! Hurrah for blouses!